The New Addition
by Aelia Weasley
Summary: UPDATED This was formerly a one-shot called The Name Compromise. I'm expanding it to cover Hermione's entire pregnancy with Hugo, hope you enjoy it!
1. The Morning Meeting

It was like any other day at Auror Headquarters at the Ministry. Harry and Ron came out of their usual fireplaces, brushing soot from their clothes. Even after all the time that had passed, Harry still shuddered when he walked by the fireplace he, Ron and Hermione had used to escape the Ministry with Yaxley hot on their trail. He avoided using that one out of superstitious nerves.

The only noticeable difference on this day was that Ron didn't meet him in the commissary for their morning cup of tea and chat about the previous night's quidditch scores. Harry found it particularly odd because the Cannons had somehow passed on to the Division Finals. Ginny had retired from the Harpies right after she and Harry married but the Daily Prophet hired her as the Senior Quidditch Correspondent. With this new job, she could easily get tickets to any match, anywhere. Harry was sure Ron would be chomping at the bit to see the Cannons play in the finals.

Since Ron didn't turn up, Harry decided on a strong cup of builder's tea and took it straight up to the Auror office, maybe Ron was waiting for him there. The hot tea was just what he needed. Baby Lily was cutting another tooth and it had been a long night of screaming, rocking and changing dirty nappies. It would have been bad enough with just Lily awake, but of course, Harry had forgotten to cast a Muffliato charm across James' and Albus' bedroom doors so the boys, (aged 5 and 2) woke up and refused to go back to bed without a good deal of whining. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the fireplace before he threw the Floo powder in. His mother's green eyes stared back at him, tired and reddened from lack of sleep, but happy to be alive when so many others weren't.

Ron was sitting at his desk reviewing reports and twirling his wand thoughtfully with his fingers. He looked tired, too. Perhaps Rose had kept them awake as well. There was something else written on Ron's face, Harry couldn't place it.

"Did'ya catch the Cannons last night? Hell of a win, eh?"

Ron didn't look up and gave a non-committal grunt. Harry frowned. This was so out of character - what the hell was wrong?

A little put off by Ron's dismissal, Harry dropped his rucksack down on his desk with a thunk. It had been a year since he was made the Head of the Auror Department but he hadn't moved into the office designated for the Department Head. He preferred his usual spot in the bullpen. Harry had received enough special attention, he didn't want an office to himself. He in truth felt his appointment as Department Head was premature. He had only been an Auror for six years and there were certainly more seasoned witches and wizards than he. It threw him for such a loop when the announcement was made. He still recalled the look of disappointment he was certain he saw flash across Ron's face. It wasn't that Ron was jealous exactly, but as the sixth of seven children, there was little chance of Ron ever being the first to do anything of any importance. Add to that the fact that no one ever seemed to give Ron enough credit for his exemplary work and Harry understood why Ron might feel slighted. Few people even remembered that Ron had come in first place at the academy, not Harry.

The promotion could have meant a cushy desk job for Harry but he'd refused. He was only 27 years old after all. It would be excellent to have a more predictable schedule and to be able to spend time with Ginny and the kids, but Harry knew he'd miss the field work with Ron too much. He remembered the smile and sigh of relief Ron uttered when Harry told him his decision to stay in the field. "I'd hate to work with someone else, Harry." Ron had said.

Today though, Ron was acting like Harry didn't exist. And it was getting really irritating.

Harry sat in his chair trying not to glare at the top of Ron's head so he focused his attention on the photographs on his desk: He and Ginny at their wedding; the boys perched on some rocks at a beach in the South of France on holiday. His favorite picture of Ginny - she didn't even know he was taking it. She was in her night dress, one hand on her belly swollen with Albus and she was holding James' hand with the other. The light shone through the shades making such a beautiful silhouette, Harry couldn't resist. The soft autumn sun made Ginny's hair and skin glow. In the picture, Ginny stared down at James and then turned her head to smile brightly at Harry, over and over again. He turned his eye to an older photograph. It was torn in half and yellowed with age. A small child with messy black hair zoomed in and out of the frame while a pair of familiar hands reached out to him. Harry had tried so hard to remember playing with the toy broom Sirius had given him for his first birthday while his dad chased after him. Of course he didn't.

Frustration gave way to habit and Harry found himself rubbing the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. It had long since stopped hurting, but Harry found comfort in rubbing it - it helped him clear his head.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron was looking at him with concern. He was no longer twirling his wand in his hand, he gripped it tight.

"Nothing." Harry said sharply. "Let's start the morning meeting." He stood and stomped into the conference room. The Aurors assembled and took their seats. Some held steaming cups of tea or coffee and some were munching on muffins from the commissary. Harry sat at the head of the table and Ron took his usual place at Harry's right.

"Good morning," he began "This will be quite quick." Harry rattled off a list of assignments from a clipboard and the teams assigned to each one gave him an update. Dennis Creevey was perched in the corner anxiously taking notes. Harry rather liked Dennis. His elder brother Colin had been killed in the Second War, which was why Dennis was determined to work in the Auror office. His NEWTs weren't quite up to department standards to work as an Auror, even when Harry tried to pull some strings. Dennis seemed very content to be an office assistant, he was very organized and efficient; always ready to help.

As Harry looked down at his notes he saw Ron's reflection in the glass-topped table. The worries of a much older wizard were written on Ron's face and he looked even paler than usual. Harry concluded the meeting and put his hand on Ron's arm to keep him from getting up. He paced to the bin and tossed a scrap of parchment in it. After a few minutes, they were almost alone.

"Dennis, could you excuse us, please?"

Dennis looked up, "Oh, certainly, Mr. Potter. Sorry, I was just finishing a sentence in my notes." He tucked his quill behind his ear and gathered his stack of parchment. I'll have these ready right away, Mr. Potter" he said, almost at the door.

"Dennis?" Harry said "It's Harry. Mr. Potter is my...just call me Harry, ok?" He smiled.

Dennis returned the smile. "Sure. Right. Harry. Sorry I keep forgetting." Dennis shut the door behind him, sensing Harry's need to speak to Ron in private. Hearing the door click shut, Harry turned to Ron.

"All right. You didn't meet me for tea, you couldn't give a bag of hippogriff dung about the Cannons winning and you look pale as a sheet. What is with you today?" He said with a mix of worry and irritation.

Ron grunted and ran his hand through his hair stopping at the bit that hung past his ear. He wound it around his finger like he always did when he was deep in thought. He tucked the curl behind his ear and sighed heavily.

"Hermione's pregnant."

Harry shook his head, "Come again?" He had expected bad news. "She's...but that's brilliant news, isn't it?" He crossed the distance to Ron's chair in two paces and clapped Ron on the back.

Ron gave a weak smile. "It is, of course it is but...well, we've only just got Rosie out of nappies and now we'll be starting all over again, won't we? And the nights without sleep...and Mum is going to go all bonkers again - it'll be her twelfth grandchild, you know."

Harry was quite familiar with his mother-in-law's enthusiasm for her grandchildren. Having raised seven kids, Mrs. Weasley was more than happy to dish out advice, solicited or not. Her heart was in the right place but it could nevertheless cause friction.

"Ron, your Mum's whole life has been kids. Your brothers, you, Ginny - even Hermione and me. Now she'll have a dozen grandkids. It's brilliant, mate, cheer up." Ron gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm happy of course but...for the love of Merlin - I'm so sick of changing sodding nappies!" Ron suddenly felt awful that he'd complained about his Mum to Harry. It was like complaining about an overfull stomach to a person dying of hunger. As over-bearing as Molly could be, Ron knew Harry would rather have his own Mum alive and able to play with his children. Of course, if Lily Potter was still alive, all of their lives would be unrecognizable.

Ron made a mental note to send his Mum a box of her favorite chocolate flake.

"Does anyone else know?" Harry asked.

"No, I mean it's still early on. Hermione wants to be cautious." Harry nodded and mimed zipping his lips shut and locking them with an imaginary key.

"Really though, Ron - don't look so grim. I thought something was wrong!" He said laughingly as they headed back to their desks.


	2. The Bad Reaction

Ron worked later than usual that night. He tied up some loose ends on a few cases he'd managed to close that week and got them filed away. He cleaned his desk, tossing out anything and everything he was certain he didn't need any more and took to restocking his quills, ink and parchment. It was all busy work; he could easily have asked Dennis to take care of it for him so he could leave but he was anxious about going home. His reaction to the news of Hermione's pregnancy was less than it could have been. Much less.

The previous evening, he arrived home and before he even opened the door, he could smell the meal. She'd been busy. It was his favorite; rosemary chicken with roasted potatoes. He opened the door and Rose ran up to him with open arms.

"Daddy!"

"Rosie Posey!" He scooped her up and kissed her cheeks. She rested her head on his shoulder and he carried her towards the scents coming from the kitchen.

"Something smells incredible, Mrs. Weasley." He said smiling when he turned the corner. Hermione was tending to a bowl of steamed green beans; seasoning them with olive oil, parsley and chopped garlic. She raised her eyes and smiled back.

"How was your day?" She asked adding some ground pepper to the bowl.

Ron shrugged. "Same old, same old. Dung Fletcher is at it again. I swear if he ever uses magic for something not even partially sneaky I'll eat a bowl of bubotuber puss."

Rose and Hermione wrinkled up their noses in identical disgusted expressions which made Ron laugh. He placed Rose down on her feet and she scrambled into her bedroom, returning moments later with her favorite doll and a book. She sat in the corner of the kitchen with the doll in her lap and babbled to herself, pretending to read the story.

"So, what's the occasion?" Ron asked, stepping behind Hermione and wrapping his arms around her waist. He sweetly kissed her cheek.

"Do I need a reason to spoil my husband?" She said sweetly.

"No…but something's up. You can't get anything past me. I'm an Auror, you know." He teased.

"After dinner. We'll talk." She replied, turning to face him. She put her arms around his neck and he eyed her suspiciously. A large banging noise from the living room made Ron jump.

"Uh-oh! Daddy!" Rose's voice called out. Ron chuckled and headed off to see what happened. Hermione sprinkled some salt into the bowl of green beans and gave it one final stir before putting it into the refrigerator. As she shut the door, she rubbed her hand over her stomach. Her secret was growing every second, she felt ready to burst.

After dinner, Hermione gave Rose a bath while Ron cleared the dishes. Life was pretty close to perfect. He had a beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter, a fantastic job and he wouldn't change a single thing. He heard Hermione's voice coming from Rose's room – their bed time ritual. Five books of Rose's choosing and three big kisses from each of them. Ron relished his one-on-one time with Rose. She was so funny, so bright; he wouldn't trade fatherhood for the world. He listened closely, waiting for his cue to bring Rose's bedtime bottle of juice but it never came. He finished with the dishes and flopped onto the sofa, wondering why Hermione was taking so long.

When she finally emerged from Rose's room, she was tiptoeing, the signal that Rose was tucked into bed and they had to keep quiet for at least 20 minutes to make sure she was out. After that first 20 minutes, an air raid siren could go off and Rose would sleep right through it. Ron puzzled at Hermione's deviation to their nightly ritual and she put a finger across her lips and winked. She cuddled in next to him and he put his arm around her shoulder. He glanced up at the clock and saw the 20 minute window had elapsed so he assumed it would be safe to talk.

"No stories? No goodnight kisses?" He said, a little sadly; he'd grown accustomed to hearing Rose's little voice say 'Ruff you, Daddy!" as he turned the light out and closed her door.

"Not tonight. I'm sorry, I needed to talk to you." She fidgeted next to him in order to tuck her feet under her bum.

"That sounds…ominous."

Hermione tossed her head back with a hearty laugh, it made Ron even more nervous.

"I'm not that funny Hermione. I did use the right word, right? Ominous? It means I think you're going to tell me awful news?"

"You are funny, my love." She kissed him sweetly. "And yes, you used the word properly but this isn't bad news." She smirked.

Ron nodded his head and smiled nervously. "Well, out with it…" He said smiling.

"You're going to be a Daddy again!" She exclaimed after a couple moments of silence. She laughed and clasped her hands in front of her. Ron shook his head.

"A Daddy…again? When did I stop being a Daddy?" He puzzled. It truly did not occur to him.

"Oh, don't be thick, Ron!" Hermione teased. She took his hand, placed it on her belly and waited. Ron's eyes bulged out.

"You don't mean…" He searched her face for the joke but all he saw was complete seriousness. "Fuck." He concluded.

"What? You're not excited?" She dropped his hand and stood up, crossing her arms over her stomach.

What followed, was not Ron's proudest moment. He told her he felt blindsided by the news. She yelled back that she couldn't understand why, since they'd been trying for two months.

"What do you mean, we've been trying for two bloody months?!" Ron shouted, it was news to him. Hermione turned away from him, he jumped off the sofa and followed her.

"What do you mean 'what do I mean'?! We've been shagging twice a day for two months, Ron!"

"I just thought you wanted to shag me more." He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I thought you'd be excited." She whispered. "I'm completely underwhelmed by this response, Ronald."

"Fuck." Ron thought. It was never good for him when she called him 'Ronald' in that tone of voice. Hermione said his name in many different ways; some were sexy, some were terrifying. That flat, emotionless tone meant that she was going to want to be alone. He knew she wasn't going to cry, she was just going to sulk and stew; marinating in her disappointment.

The rest of the evening went about as well as one would expect. Hermione closed herself up in their bedroom with a book and Ron stared blankly at the television. Although he had come across as angry, that emotion was perhaps never farther from his mind. He was scared as hell. All of his insecurities about being a father returned as if they'd never faded away. Two kids. Twice the crying. Twice the little toys everywhere. At least two more years of dirty nappies. He panicked at the thought of Rose – what if she felt the new baby was replacing her? What if she felt neglected because of the wrinkly little interloper? His racing pulse pounded in his temples. His heart was so full of love; for Hermione and Rose. How could he possibly have anything left for a second child?

Somewhere around midnight he got up and checked the bedroom door. It wasn't locked like he expected it to be but when he peeked inside he saw Hermione was awake, still with her eyeballs glued to the pages of her book. She looked up at him briefly only to mark her page, turn the light out and roll onto her side. He didn't want to poke the bear by getting into bed next to her, he decided it might be a better idea to give her space.

"I'll sleep out here." He said quietly, Hermione didn't respond.

Ron's racing mind kept him awake for much of the night. His internal conversation went on and on.

_You're being a prick._

I know.

_You should be overjoyed._

I'm getting excited about it.

_Liar._

Oh, fuck off – I am!

_You should have been excited from the start._

She caught me off-guard.

_It's called a surprise, you tit._

I should go wake her up and tell her I'm excited.

_Not such a good idea._

Yeah, better to let her sleep. Fuck, I'm an idiot.

_You're being too hard on yourself._

Am I?

_No, actually. You are an idiot._

Two kids.

_Your parents raised seven._

Perish the thought. But what about money…

_Your parents did it on much less._

True.

_Did you really only want one?_

I don't know…I never thought about how many we'd have.

_Time to get used to the idea._


	3. The Reconciliation

Ron finally packed up his desk for the night and headed home. He hated using the Tube but he decided against using the Floo Network. Plus, he'd pass a flower shop on the way to the station and he could grab an "I'm sorry I'm an idiot" bouquet for Hermione. He exhaled deeply as he turned his key in the lock.

"Hermione?" Ron called from the front door. Rose wasn't there to greet him. He heard the radio playing in the kitchen so he knew Hermione must be home. He tossed his keys into the glass bowl by the door and put his rucksack down. He gripped the bouquet of yellow roses in one hand and kept his other ready to grab at his wand in defense, if necessary.

"Mione?" He turned into the kitchen and she wasn't there. That's when he heard the wretching. He had forgotten how sick she'd been while pregnant with Rose. All the amazing parts of parenthood had a way of whitewashing the not-so-great things. If only he'd thought that way the night before, he wouldn't feel like such an arsehole about how he'd reacted. He filled a glass of water at the sink and took it towards the bathroom. His hands were now full, if she wanted to hex him, he was prepared to take it.

He nudged the door open with his toe and sighed heavily. Hermione's legs were buckled underneath her and she was resting her head on her arms on top of the toilet seat. Her face was red and there were streaks of tears on her cheeks. He set the flowers down in the sink and rushed to sit next to her. He placed the water on the tile floor and pulled her gently into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Mione." He pushed her hair from her face. "I love you, I'm so so sorry."

She sniffled, "I thought you'd be excited."

"I am excited, love. It just…took me a bit longer." He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back, hoping her stomach would settle down. Watching her get sick made him feel completely useless. He knew from the last time that there was no magic to fix it, no tablet or potion that held it at bay.

They sat there a while before Ron handed her the glass of water. She accepted it weakly and sipped it.

"I feel dreadful." She replied while taking a large gulp of water. She swished it around in her mouth a minute and spit it out into the toilet bowl. She then took a deep breath and leaned into his shoulder.

"Not nearly as dreadful as I do. I can't believe I reacted that way. I'm…just afraid of change, I guess." He said.

He felt her nod, but then she raised her head and kissed his collarbone. "We're in this together, Ron. Like everything else since we were 11 years old. Change is a good thing."

Once Hermione felt ready to stand, Ron helped her up and walked slowly with her to the sofa. He refilled the glass of water and sat beside her. She leaned back and closed her eyes, the nausea was nearly gone for the moment. Ron found himself staring at her midsection, picturing it growing and growing. He smirked, finally feeling as excited as he knew he should have been from the start. He put his hand on her stomach and sighed.

"You're going to stop shagging me twice a day now, huh?" He said.

Her eyes popped open, ready to yell at him when she saw he was wearing his wide, teasing grin.

"Don't be so sure." She winked at him. "Are you really not upset? I don't want you to think I….I tricked you or something!"

"I never thought you tricked me!" He said, easing her mind in that issue at last. "I'm not upset, it's brilliant. Truly. I don't know why I reacted the way I did." He leaned forward and kissed her stomach. He sat back and puzzled a moment. His eyes came over cloudy and had a worried expression.

"I take that back."

"You take what back?" Hermione asked.

"I know why I reacted the way I did. I'm scared." He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at the floor. "I remember how helpless I felt when you were having Rose. It was awful. She was so early, I didn't know what to do with myself. The Healers even looked nervous…there was blood everywhere. I was scared I was going to lose both of you." He wiped a tear from his eye with his thumb.

Hermione sniffled and kissed his shoulder. "Ron, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be fine, the baby will be fine."

"I know, Hermione but…I don't think I've ever been so scared since…since…" A cursory glance down at the fading scar on her forearm finished Ron's sentence.

"Shhh…" She soothed him. "Let's not think about that. I was scared too that night. But I'm fine and so is she. The Healers might want to keep a closer eye on me this time around, that's all."

He sighed heavily again, trying to push the memory of the worried looks the Healers gave each other on the night Rose was prematurely born wasn't easy.

"Rose is going to be a big sister." Hermione said, giggling a little.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Where is she, by the way?" He asked, looking around.

"She's with Ginny." Hermione responded.

Ron turned green. If Ginny knew how abominably he'd behaved, she'd surely give him a bollocking the next time she saw him. Ginny was his younger sister, but always acted a bit like a second mother.

"I asked her to watch Rose a while so we could talk. I assume you told Harry?"

Ron nodded.

"I didn't tell Ginny what happened last night. I hoped you'd come around."

"It isn't a matter of 'coming round', Mione. I'm an arse. I'm sorry." He paused a minute. "And I'm very glad to hear you might keep shagging me." He teased her. His stomach gave a rude growl

"I don't feel like eating or cooking anything at all." She said, leaning backwards against the armrest.

Ron waved her off, "I'll take care of myself." He paused and pondered a moment. "What about Sophia?"

Hermione gave him a quizzical look. "Excuse me?"

"For a girl's name. I dunno why but I've always liked the name 'Sophia'." Ron said.

"So you think it's another girl?" Hermione grinned with her hand on her stomach.

"I'm betting on the odds – out of the eleven little Weasleys, we only have four boys." Ron replied.

"Hmm…" Hermione considered. "Sophia Caroline, after my Mum. I like that quite a bit."

Ron nodded with a grin, "Sorted. That was easy! Watch, it'll be a boy and we'll be completely stuck for a name."

She laughed and nodded, "Rose's name was easy, too. It's so much harder to name boys!" She said.

"I like Alastor." Ron offered.

"After Mad-Eye? That's very sweet, Ron." She replied, running her fingers through her hair.

"Yeah. I really learned a lot about what it was really like to be an Auror watching him work all that time with the Order. That's how I made up my mind. I only thought about becoming an Auror because that's what Harry was going to do. Watching Mad-Eye, hearing him tell stories...well, that was a big influence on my decision." Ron said thoughtfully.

"Alastor Weasley." She said. She wrinkled up her nose a bit.

"It is a bit much, isn't it?" He said with a frown.

"It sounds better as a middle name. Something Alastor Weasley. Ron the Second? Ronald Alastor Weasley?" She offered.

Ron shook his head, "No, I'd rather he have his own first name. Plus, we'd never know which one of us is in trouble. You'd just yell 'Ronald' in your scary voice and we'd both run and hide." He teased.

"Well, we'll just hope for a girl, then." She said and kissed him. "I'm really relieved that you're not upset, Ron."

"I'm very sorry for being such a git. I love you." He bopped her on the nose with his finger and playfully pushed her shirt up. "You in there, this is your father speaking. You're to stop making Mummy sick immediately, is that clear?" He playfully put his ear to her stomach and nodded. "She agreed."


	4. The Name Compromise

"Out of the question, Hermione. Absolutely out of the bloody question." Ron stomped from the bedroom to the kitchen. As used to it as he was by then, Harry still absolutely hated hearing them row. It gave him such a headache. He was there to pick Rose up for the afternoon so Hermione could rest but as soon as he entered the flat, he wished he'd sent Ginny to collect their niece.

"But Ron, when you wanted to name Rosie after your grandmother – I didn't object!" Hermione came waddling after him. She was only a few weeks shy of delivering their second child.

"That's different! Completely different!" Ron said, raising his hands in the air, exasperated.

Harry turned from his friends and went into the living room where Rose was quietly playing with a doll. He crouched down on his knees next to Rose and kissed her temple.

"Daddy says Mummy wantsa' name my brudder affer her boyfriend." Rose explained to Harry without looking up. She pushed a baby bottle into the doll's mouth and rocked it seriously.

Harry nodded his head, suddenly understanding the big fuss Ron was making. Hermione could certainly choose her arguments.

"Harry – Harry will back me up on this one. Would you let Ginny name your son Dean?!" Ron said with a backward look at Hermione.

Before Harry could answer (and the answer was 'no') Hermione interjected:

"I suggested the name of an author – a _genius_ - whose work I really admire. Because he happens to coincidentally have the same name as a boy I kissed _once_ over thirteen _bloody_ years ago Ron has turned into a green-eyed jealous monster." Hermione spat at him. "For crying out loud Ron, they don't even spell it the same way."

Harry found himself chuckling.

"We can name the baby after an author – just not that one, Hermione. End of discussion." Ron said, crossing his arms.

There was a large stack of books (even by Hermione's standards) next to the sofa. She'd been signed out of work by the Healers at St. Mungo's for a few weeks already. Rose's premature birth had everyone concerned that she'd deliver early again. She'd been told to sit and relax as much as possible.

Harry looked up the spines of the novels and recognized some of the titles:

_Les Miserables, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Dracula, Mansfield Park, Jane Eyre, Moby Dick, Frankenstein. _

It seemed like Hermione was quickly working her way through the entire Romantic literature movement. He shook his head.

"Ronald Weasley you are being completely pig-headed." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hermione Granger, you are being ridiculous." Ron replied, mocking Hermione's tone. He gestured wide with his large hands accidentally knocking the stack of books over. Harry reached out just in time to keep a weighty tome from knocking into Rose.

Ron grumbled and knelt down to pick up the books as Hermione continued to talk.

"Don't go calling me 'Granger', Ronald. You know perfectly well what my name is." She scolded. "Victor is a classically dignified name. Victor Alastor Weasley – why don't you like it?"

Ron's fist clenched as he picked up the last book from the floor. "Here, how about this book. You loved this one, you went on about it for weeks. Why not name the baby after this author?" He thrust the book in her direction and she scoffed.

"Well, Ronald – I had no idea you'd be ok with naming your son Mary." She rolled her eyes. "Why do you assume every author is a man? You assume a woman can't write a brilliant piece of literature?"

Sensing another feminist tangent, Harry cringed. He heard the argument continue while he tried to involve Rose in a puzzle but she wasn't interested.

"Fine. Mary Whatsherface-" Ron said dismissively.

"Wollstonecraft." Hermione corrected him.

"I'm sure she was bloody brilliant, Mione. Does the book have a male lead character?"

"It does." She replied.

"Done, then – let's name the baby after him."

Harry couldn't control the laugh that was fighting to get out. He held the stitch in his side and laughed until he cried.

"Somehow, I don't think you'll appreciate the name of the lead character of _Frankenstein_, Ron." Hermione said, laughing as well.

"Why? What is it? It has to be better than Quasi-fucking-modo…" Ron said flipping the book over and reading the synopsis outloud:

"Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's classic gothic novel reaches across time and for nearly two centuries readers have continued to discover the tale of one man's obsession with reanimating lifeless matter. Victor Frankenstein assembles a human being from stolen body parts…" Ron did a double-take. "Sodding hell is _everyone_ named fucking Victor?"

Ron looked up from the book jacket to shoot Harry a glare but he saw that Hermione was also laughing. His expression softened and he plopped down on the sofa, resigned. Rose took her doll by the hand and crawled up on her father's lap. Ron stroked Rose's red hair and kissed her temple.

"Daddy used baffroom words. Mummy says no baffroom words, Daddy." Rose said in her scolding voice.

"I know, Rose. I know. I'm sorry." Ron said with his lopsided grin.

"So, realistically Hermione – do you expect Ron to be ok with that name? You've got to admit, it's a bit of a sore subject." Harry said.

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Harry with an expression of deep betrayal.

"Harry, whose side are you on?" She said, sounding hurt.

"I'm not trying to be on anyone's side but come on, Hermione. There are loads of boys' names out there – you'll find one you like more than Victor." He responded.

"Hugh-go" Rose suddenly said. The three adults all turned their complete attention to the small girl with the big voice.

"What, Rosie?" Hermione approached Rose and used the armrest of the sofa to leverage herself as she squatted down.

"Hugh-go, Mummy – look." Rose's delicate finger pointed to the old book with the tattered cover.

"Hugo? Hugo Alastor Weasley. Hmm." Ron considered.

"I kind of love that…"Hermione said running her hand over her belly, considering it.

Harry looked at Rose, she never failed to astonish him. Naturally any child of Ron and Hermione's would be advanced in many ways, but her intuitiveness, her ability to read people was way beyond her three years.

Harry helped Hermione from her squatted position on the floor to sit next to Ron and Rose on the sofa.

"That might just be the name, Ron. What do you think?" She said.

Ron smiled, put his palm flat on Hermione's belly and rubbed it gently. "How're you going in there, son? What do you think of the name Hugo?" He playfully asked.

Simultaneously, Harry saw Ron and Hermione jump. The baby had kicked.

"Is that a 'yes' then?" Harry said with a chuckle.

"Mummy, lemme see." Rose said pointing to her mother's stomach. Hermione lifted her top slightly, revealing her porcelain white skin. Rose pushed herself forward and placed her hands on Hermione and placed gentle kisses there.

"Ruff you, rittle brudder." Rose said.

Ron twirled some of Rose's long curly red hair around his finger and considered. "Hugo, then?" he said.

Hermione thought about the name and looked up at Harry who nodded his approval with a wink.

Hermione smiled and nodded her head.

"Hugo."


End file.
